The Key to Triumph
by Red Rys
Summary: AU: In an era of terror, one cannot let down one's guard. People fear He Who Must Not Be Named, but also his son, Damien Riddle, the young Dark Lord. Who is he really? RR ON INDEFINITE HOLD. SORRY.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: We own naught but the obvious, the rest belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Authors Note: Originally planned to be a co-written story between myself and Rhysora, this story has now gone on to be written by myself, Rachel A. Prongs and zimagesto. Enjoy.  
  
Prologue: Spawn  
  
~*~  
  
'By suffering comes wisdom' - Aeschylus  
  
'Every single day, great things are done by ordinary people' - Anon  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Prefect and all-round genius, took another spoonful of her ice cream sundae. She didn't watch it as she raised it to her mouth; her eyes were focused on the book which lay in front of her.  
  
Everyone in her year - even her wanna-be-boyfriend, Ron Weasley - said that she read too much. But then, of course, what was wrong with reading, she'd ask them. Was there something immoral in wishing to educate one's self?  
  
Now however, it was the Summer holiday before her fifth year, and there was no-one to complain about her books here; which was why she was sitting outside Mariah Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour (Mariah's father, Florean, had died in a Death Eater attack last year), in the blazing heat, catching up on her History of Magic homework.  
  
Growing bored with the moving, black and white photographs of the 1612 Goblin Rebellion, which she had seen before, she flicked forwards to the modern history; specifically, to the chapters on the Dark Lord Voldemort, and started reading.  
  
'Chapter 36: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named  
  
In the year of 1960, not many years after the fall of the Dark wizard Grindlewald, the Dark Lord 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', gathered an army of Wizards and Dark Creatures known as the 'Death Eaters'. His intent was to conquer Britain, and to eliminate Muggle-born Wizards and Witches.  
  
Rumoured to be the last heir of Salazar Slytherin, one of the four Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named became especially powerful over the years, as his army and powers grew.  
  
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed all who opposed him, including many old Wizarding families; the McBones, Prewetts, Potters and Snapes, to name but a few.  
  
During the years of 1983 - 83, it seemed that the Light was winning, when Dumbledore, globally renowned as the most powerful Light Wizard, was voted to succeed Samuel Murrains as Minister for Magic. However, some years later, in 1993, He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named discovered that the Necronomicon, or 'Book of the Dead', had been found by a Mr William Weasley, a Gringotts Curse Breaker trainee, in a hidden vault in a Roman temple.  
  
Knowing that the Book contained highly powerful Dark Magic spells, He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named sent a small battalion of Death Eaters, comprising five giants, sixty Wizards and Witches, four Vampires and a Nundu under Imperius (one of the five Unforgivable Curses), to attack the Aurors that were protecting the Book.  
  
Succeeding easily, and destroying the Aurors and William Weasley, the Book was taken back to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who from it learnt the spell of Transferral; a deadly curse that transfers that victim's Magical power into the caster, slowly (and excruciatingly painfully) killing the victim.  
  
The Transferral Curse was named as the fourth Unforgivable.  
  
Ever since then, the Dark Lord's power has steadily grown; the killing curse of Avada Kedavra is now only used by Death Eaters as the Dark Lord himself uses the Transferral on his victims, stealing their power for himself. As He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named increased his power, so did his aims also grow.  
  
Instead of planning on the domination of Great Britain and the elimination of Muggle-born Wizards and Witches, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now plans on global domination, and the eradication of not only Muggle-born Magic-users, but also half-borns and Muggles, with only pure-bloods left alive.  
  
As the Dark Lord has now become officially the most powerful Magic-user since Merlin, other major countries such as Japan, North and South America and France are taking an active part in bringing him down.  
  
Twelve years ago, another spell within the Book of the Dead became the latest Unforgivable; the Hybrid Curse.  
  
For this curse, two animals or plants are brought together. Then, using the spell, the two creatures merge, the caster concentrating on the image of the end result.  
  
As He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers use this curse to create dangerous hybrids - the most well-known and feared being the Mantichera, a cross between a Manticore and a Chimaera - to attack Light Wizards, there is now a life-sentence in Azkaban for anyone who can be proved of having used it.  
  
One of the mysteries surrounding the Dark Lord is that of his illegitimate son, Damien Riddle. The mother is unknown - most likely dead - and all that is known of the fifteen or sixteen year old, is his looks and his incredible Magical power, although nowhere near strong enough to rival his father.  
  
Damien appeared in a full-scale battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters on the sixth of March, 1994; and although only eleven or twelve years old, he still slew forty-two Phoenix members, and called up a small hurricane, which demolished one of the Order's hideouts.  
  
Two years later, in 1996, a bounty was offered for each Death Eater brought in to the Ministry of Magic. Ten Galleons for lower-ranking individuals, fifty Galleons for those in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's inner circle, five million for the Dark Lord's son, alive or dead, and twenty million for the Dark Lord himself, alive or dead. Over four hundred bounty hunters from around the world have tried to capture the latter two, but the tasks have been deemed 'impossible' by many.  
  
What has been called 'The Serpent War' after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Parselmouth ability, and Slytherin alliances, seems to be coming to an end, with the Dark Lord on the winning side. As the longest war in the history of Magic (over fifty years), th'  
  
Hermione, however, didn't manage to read any further, as a loud explosion rocked Diagon Alley. Jumping up in shock, Hermione looked over to the direction of the sound, just as flames roared up and thick black smoke started to pour out of the crumbling remains of Gringotts bank, a Goblin with one of its arms missing stumbling dazedly out. There was a split- second of silence and confusion, before the Dark Mark appeared over the wreckage, and then instant pandemonium. Screams filled the air, almost deafened by the multiple 'pop's as the Death Eaters Apparated in, dressed in black robes and silver masks with green snakes engraved on, twisting over the left of the mouth, around the nose and above the right eye.  
  
Grabbing her book, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Prefect and all-round genius, reaching her hand into her pocket for the Floo Powder that every Witch and Wizards carried nowadays in case of an emergency, sprinted for the Leaky Cauldron, heart racing and adrenaline pumping. She almost made it.  
  
~*~  
  
Ronald Edward Weasley, youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, dragged himself down the stairs after a two hour lie-in, stomach growling and mouth yawning.  
  
He discovered his breakfast; or rather, lunch, sitting at the breakfast table, and his father sitting opposite, reading the Daily Prophet with a grim expression. Mr Weasley's hair had more than a few grey streaks in it from the past few years; just a few months after his eldest son had died in Egypt, Voldemort's forces had grown stronger with the two new Unforgivables.  
  
"What's up, Dad?" Ron asked, stifling a yawn as he tried to peer round at what his father was reading.  
  
Mr Weasley sighed, and passed the paper over. "Attack in Diagon Alley yesterday afternoon. Twelve dead, including four Aurors." he said bluntly, and left it to Ron to read the details. Mr Weasley's face creased in worry. "They're aiming for the Ministry workers. Going for them specifically, not just if they happen to come by." he said quietly. "Percy's working overtime now, trying to sort everything out. What if they get him?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, and began to scan down the paper. "Come off it, Dad. Percy works right inside the Ministry Headquarters, and none of the Death Eater attacks have ever got inside there. Percy'll be fine."  
  
Mr Weasley was silent for a moment, before he sighed again. "I think you should know, Ron. Percy wants to get off paperwork. He wants - he wants to be an Auror."  
  
Ron choked on his soggy cereal (Quidditch-Os), spraying the table with broomstick and Snitch shaped marshmallow and oatmeal. He gasped for breath, staring at his dad. "Are you joking?" he screeched, still gawping. "Percy? Pompous Percy? Percy wouldn't know a Death-Eater from a Phoenix member! He'd slay half the Aurors before he figured out which side he was on! What's he going to do? Staple them to death? Stab them with a letter opener? Throw paper-weights at them?"  
  
Mr Weasley frowned. "Ron," he said warningly, "that's enough. I don't want Percy going into such a dangerous job at this time, but at least he wants to try and help the war-effort. And personally, I think he could do something. He didn't get a school award for a perfect Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T for nothing, you know." He half-closed his eyes in pride, and Ron pretended to puke.  
  
"Well, if Percy wants to go and get his head blown off, that's his own problem." Ron conceded, turning back to the paper. "Hey, Chudley Cannons won against the Holyhead Harpies!"  
  
Mr Weasley glanced over his son. "Well, there's a first time for everything."  
  
Ron rolled his. "Whatever, Dad." he said, passing the paper back. As he did so, his sleeve rolled up slightly, and he pulled it back down again. After all, he didn't want anyone to see his Dark Mark grinning up at them. God have mercy on Percy, if he got his wish, for Ron certainly wouldn't.  
  
~*~  
  
Albus Dumbledore, Minister of Magic, Supreme Mugwump (even he wasn't sure what a Mugwump was) and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, frowned over his half-moon spectacles as he read through the latest message from his spy.  
  
The agent, deep in Voldemort's inner circle, was highly unlikely to be found (or even suspected) which was the reason that the most important and vital plans of Voldemort always managed to get to them.  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed the spy had only just learnt of the attack on Diagon Alley yesterday afternoon, and was offering their services to find where the seven prisoners were being held before their Draining.  
  
Setting the letter down, Dumbledore heaved a sigh and patted his familiar, Fawkes, who uttered a few soothing notes.  
  
One of the. . . deceased. . . was a Hogwarts student, and two of the imprisoned were also students. Frankly, he didn't hold much hope for them.  
  
Sighing again, he picked up his quill and a few clean sheets of parchment, and began to write to Mr and Mrs Pine, Mr Creevey and Mrs and Mrs Granger, informing them of the recent tragic occurrences.  
  
~*~  
  
Two people made their way through the dark corridors, the smaller one keeping close to the leader. There were few torches lighting up the hallways, and those few that could be found were burning with a strange silvery-green, cold flame. The shadows were exceptionally dark, and seemed to stretch after anything that moved like hungry demons, desperate for the taste of human flesh.  
  
The two people paid the shadows no mind. They had grown up in this place and knew most of its secrets and dangers, and knew how to defend themselves better than most wizards. The shadows were only there to confuse and scare prisoners and spies, but not all of them were harmless as both of them knew from firsthand experience.  
  
The taller one of the two suddenly ducked behind a bend in the corridor, drawing the shorter protectively to itself. Two men in midnight black robes and white masks came up the corridor, talking about something or other. Apparently both found it extremely funny, because a second later both of them were laughing darkly.  
  
They stopped in front a plain wall, the two figures in the shadows going by unnoticed. One of the two white-masked strangers touched a stone with a shining, silver snake and a secret door opened, admitting the two of them into the room beyond. The wall closed after them, leaving not trace of ever being anything but a wall.  
  
The two in the shadows took a minute to calm their high-strung nerves, the taller comforting the smaller who was shaking.  
  
"It's alright buddy," the tall one, definitely a male, said. "Trust me, we're going to get you out of here." His companion nodded. "Alright? Then come on." They set off again.  
  
They continued down the same corridor for another while, until suddenly the oldest one went straight through a wall, quickly followed by the smaller one. They quickly made their way through the total darkness, not daring to lit a light, and after a while they could feel fresh air from outside.  
  
"Soon kiddo," the leader whispered. "Soon you'll be out of this hell-hole." They had reached what seemed like a dead end, a solid wall of earth blocking their path to freedom. But then the speaker pushed at something right underneath the low ceiling, and a small door opened. He helped his smaller companion out first then followed.  
  
Outside they were met by a cloaked man, and, in the shadows behind the stranger, they could make out the form of a Winged Horse. The tall boy turned the shorter towards him again. "Now, be a good kid and behave." He brushed some dirt off the cloak. "And continue with the piano lessons, alright?" he sniffed despite his efforts. "Maybe we'll see each other again some day?"  
  
"What do you mean?" the smaller one, also a male, asked in a frightened tone. "You aren't coming with me?"  
  
"I can't. I have a job to do here, and a revenge to carry out; besides, I'm in too deep, but there's still some hope left for you." He looked up at the man patiently waiting by the horse. "This man will take you to Hogwarts. You'll live there and continue your schooling. Dumbledore expects y-" the smaller one hugged him. He hugged right back, willing himself not to cry as he pushed the kid away from himself and towards the stranger.  
  
"Take care of him werewolf." He said as the man stepped out and picked the tiny boy up, put him up on the horse, then mounted behind his little charge. "If something happens to him, you won't have to worry about the Dark Lord, I'll kill you myself."  
  
"Don't worry, we'll take care of him."  
  
"Take care Damien." The smaller boy waved as they rose into the air.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Harry, Severus?" the taller mumbled to himself as he watched them fly away.  
  
~*~  
  
In Diagon Alley, a few pages of an abandoned book flipped gently over in the breeze.  
  
--------------------------  
  
Right, this was corrected and reformed by Rachel A. Prongs, but is still written by The Red Dragons Order and Rhysora.  
  
The Red Dragons Order 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We own naught but the obvious, the rest belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Authors Note: Enjoy.  
  
Chapter One: Fear  
  
~*~  
  
'Don't count the chickens before the eggs are hatched' - My mother.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione woke up again in a cold, damp dungeon. The room wasn't big, hardly enough to move about in. Right opposite the door there was a pile of dirty straws, and that's where she had been placed. In a corner there was an old bucket that didn't exactly smell nice, and she didn't investigate further. The door was made out of thick, strong wood and enforced with steel. A small window at the top allowed her to look out into a dimly lit corridor. On both sides there were doors to other cells. Now and then a group of black-robed people with white masks - Death Eaters, she supposed - would pass, talking about something or other.  
  
She shuddered. It was cold in the cell, and even colder in her summer clothes. The kidnappers had of course taken her wand, and there was little she could do to warm herself.  
  
Rubbing her arms she started to walk around to keep the blood circulating.  
  
The moans and incoherent jabber of the prisoners around her almost made her wish that the Death Eaters would come and finish her off before she went mad. Now and then a terrified scream would cut through the quiet chatter and echo off the walls for five minutes. God, how she wished she was back home with her mother and father. The thoughts of her parents nearly made her cry. She would never see them again. She sniffed and tried her hardest to keep the tears at bay.  
  
A sudden commotion further down the corridor made her go to the door and look through the little window. Two Death Eaters walked past her cell with a small boy between them. The blonde boy was fighting and screaming for help. Hermione recognised him. It was Colin Creevy, a boy in the same House as her but a year younger. A bend in the corridor hid them from her view, but she could still see the three shadows on the wall. Soon a fourth shadow joined them, it was taller than most and carried itself proudly. The shadow pointed a wand at Colin's small one. A dark, cold laugh followed a whispered word and a black flash of light.  
  
Once again there were only three shadows on the wall, but all three belonged to grown-ups.  
  
Hermione didn't doubt what had happened to her fellow student. He had been Drained and soon it would be her turn.  
  
~*~  
  
Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the small boy standing in his office. The Headmaster looked up at Remus Lupin, and nodded to the werewolf. The man nodded back, smiled encouragingly at the young boy and left the office. Albus turned his attention back to the boy. Severus Snape, the sole survivor and heir to one of the oldest Light families, was standing in the middle of the room looking curiously at everything. He was thin but - not dangerously so. He was slightly taller than most twelve-year-olds with black, shoulder long hair and coal black eyes. He was dressed in black robes made out of fancy black silk, with a green cape over that again.  
  
Fawkes flew over to the boy and settled on the outstretched arm. The old mages mind jumped back more than a decade when Severus' father had been standing in the same spot for the first time, petting the same bird.  
  
"Now, my boy," Albus began, and the youngster turned his attention to him. "First of all I must welcome you to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." The young Snape nodded politely. "I hope that you will have a nice time here for the remaining six years of your magical education."  
  
For the first time since escaping the Dark Lords fortress, Severus spoke. "My brother has already taught me most things." He told the Headmaster. "I am somewhere along fifth year level, even further in Potions."  
  
"Well then, your brother did a wise choice in teaching you so early." Albus smiled. "Though to make sure we know exactly what your you should be in, I hope you won't mind taking a small test?"  
  
Severus shook his head. Fawkes settled back on his perch just as Severus placed himself a bit uncertainly in the chair that stood in front of the Headmasters desk. When he was tested back at the fortress, it had always involved being hexed into oblivion. If it hadn't been for Damien he wouldn't have survived the first couple of years. The chair was soft and fluffy he noticed, a stark contrast to the hard, wooden chairs he was used to.  
  
Albus couldn't help but chuckle as he turned around from searching for a test that could fit Severus, and found said young man asleep in one of his chairs. Well, at least it was good to know that the boy had managed to keep some of his childish innocence even with the war raging around his ears.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco yawned as he stepped into the kitchen. As it was still early the other house occupants were still sleeping, but several 'good mornings' and 'hellos' came his way from pictures and paintings as he made his way to the table.  
  
It had shocked everyone nearly senseless when Draco Malfoy had ended up in Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin at the Sorting six years ago. No one really had had any idea of what to do or how to act around the Malfoy heir - until the next morning that was, when a dark brown Horned Owl had arrived with a Howler and headed straight for the blonde. Lucius Malfoy's voice had echoed around the Great Hall, letting everyone and everything that wasn't deaf hear that Draco was hereby disowned and no longer a Malfoy.  
  
There had been a shocked silence after that, even the Slytherins couldn't believe their ears. In their mind it was better to get into Ravenclaw, than, say, Gryffindor. At least it mean that you had some brains and wouldn't run recklessly into everything that came your way.  
  
The scraping of a chair from the other side of the room had drawn everyone's attention from the shocked ex-Malfoy, and to a Gryffindor first year: Know-It-All Hermione Granger. The bushy haired girl had walked from her table and to the Ravenclaw one, and stopped right beside Draco who had been sitting at the far end. Nothing was said between the two of them; Hermione had just offered him her hand, and Draco had taken it. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but he had never regretted it.  
  
Since that day, the two of them had been best friends. Where one was, you could be sure that the other wasn't far off. They were like brother and sister. Draco would spend Christmas, Easter and a bigger part of the Summer Holidays at Hermione's; and those times he wasn't there, he lived with either Remus Lupin or Sirius Black.  
  
Therefore it was a great shock to him when he read the Headline of the Daily Prophet.  
  
'Attack at Diagon Alley! Three Hogwarts students gone!'  
  
Time froze. He couldn't believe it. Draco blinked a few times trying to shake himself out of his reverie. The attack didn't shock him as much as one might think, he was used to it. Every day, on the front page of the paper, there would be printed a story about another Death Eater attack or some other tragedy. No, the thing that had him frozen to the spot was that Hermione was supposed to visit Diagon Alley yesterday to buy her new school supplies.  
  
Suddenly he snapped out of it, and started to run up the stairs. "SIRIUS! WAKE UP!"  
  
The paper laid forgotten on the table.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione was sitting on the pile of straws. She had no idea how much time had passed since she had been captured, nor how much had since Colin had been Drained. She just couldn't bring herself to care anymore; trying to count the minutes as they passed had only made it worse, and she had stopped.  
  
She was saying a silent farewell to Draco, when a group of Death Eaters stopped in front of her cell. They were laughing and generally acting as if they were drunk - something they probably were as well. The sound of a key being put in the lock and turned came, the door opened and the five Death Eaters stepped in.  
  
Hermione got to her feet, ready to not give herself over until the last breath had left her body. She'd be damned if she went willingly with them to get Drained!  
  
But to her surprise one of the Death Eaters closed the door after them and locked it; then they turned to her, lustful looks going up and down her body.  
  
'Merlin, no!' she thought as they advanced. 'This can't be happening!' yet it was.  
  
Hermione punched the first Death Eater who tried to touch her, and kicked the second. The third she bit and the fourth she scratched. The fifth suddenly grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall. His breath smelled horribly of cheap beer.  
  
"Now why don't you be a good girl and we'll all be happy?" he ran a hand over her cheek. "You are beautiful for a mudblood." He moved to kiss her, but Hermione spit him in the face. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor a handprint-formed bruise forming on her cheek. "We've caught us a little wildcat, boys!" he said to the other four. "This will be a lot of fun!"  
  
All five of them laughed, but stopped in their tracks when a darker laugh joined them. They turned and stared at something Hermione couldn't see as they were in the way, blocking whoever it was.  
  
"What a wonderful speech, Nott." The voice was just as dark as the laugh. "How long did it take you to formulate it?"  
  
None of the five boys replied, and one of them - Nott, she supposed - began to shake in his boots. A dark chuckle echoed off the walls. It washed over her like black silk, wrapped her in its depths.  
  
"I've got a riddle for you," the voice continued. "Five guards aren't on their posts when their superior comes by. Now, what should he do with them?"  
  
There was a silence, then all five began to talk at once.  
  
"It was Crabbe's fault!"  
  
"We were just looking for some fun!"  
  
"...and he said that..."  
  
"It wasn't my fault, they dragged me along. I was almost put in chains!"  
  
"I swear on my oath as a-"  
  
"Quiet!" they shut up. The voice had gone from dark velvet to ice cold within seconds. "You know very well what happens to disobedient recruits. This will reach Lord Voldemort's ears, now get back to your posts!"  
  
To Hermione it seemed like the five boys had Apparated. She got off the floor and dusted herself off. It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that she realised that she wasn't alone. She looked up from inspecting the damage done to her pants, and looked straight into emerald green, unnaturally bright eyes.  
  
-----------------------  
  
That's all folks. The chapter was corrected by Rachel A. Prongs, but written solely by The Red Dragons Order. 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We own naught but the obvious, the rest belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Authors Note: Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Two: Escape  
  
~*~  
  
'If you are going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance' - Anonymous  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione stared at the young man in front of her. He was perhaps a year or two older than her. His black, shiny hair was tied back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck and still it reached his shoulder-blades. The face was pale, expressionless and elegant. Thin, black eyebrows perched over two green eyes that watched her every move. He was tall, lean but there was a certain strength about him. Dressed completely in black - pants, boots, turtle-neck and cape - he made a very impressive figure.  
  
The young man entered the cell and closed the door. Hermione quickly backed up as he came closer, and ended up being pressed against the cold wall. Still the boy came closer until he was standing two feet away from her. She tensed as he reached into his cloak for something but blinked when he drew out a silvery piece of cloth.  
  
He chuckled at her look. "I'm sure you've heard of Invisibility Cloaks, Ms Granger." The voice was laced with dark amusement. "Put it on and follow me." He handed the thing to her and went over to the door again. When she didn't follow and just stood there, he turned. "What now?"  
  
"W- what's going on?" she asked still holding the cloak. "Why are you helping me, whoever you are?"  
  
"I'm helping you because I owe it to Dumbledore. Now put that thing on and stay close to me." It was an order, and Hermione decided to trust him. She was probably being led to her death, but at least she wouldn't have to wait for it sitting in this cell, but face it straight on like a true Gryffindor.  
  
The young man opened the door, waited till she was out before closing it after him. He quickly walked down the corridor, his movements graceful and deadly. Hermione had to jog to keep up with his long legs.  
  
He led her down numerous corridors, making so many turns and going up so many stairs that in the end Hermione lost her sense of direction. They only ran across one group of patrolling Death Eaters, but the men quickly disappeared when they saw the young man. She had to wonder about that. Was he that important? Who was he? Why did he help her?  
  
Suddenly she found herself alone in the dark corridor. But before she could panic a hand shot out of the wall, grabbed her arm in a strong grip and dragged her through the solid-looking stone and right into a secret tunnel. She stumbled and expected him to catch her fall, but he didn't. He was already yards away, his wand lit with a weak Lumos. Hermione growled in annoyance and hurried after him.  
  
"You can take the cloak off now." He said suddenly. There was a slight hiss to the way he was speaking. It freaked her out.  
  
It didn't take them long to reach the end of the tunnel. When she saw the wall up ahead, Hermione began to wonder if the he hadn't led her here to rape and kill her. But all those fears were shot out of the window when the young man hissed at the wall in Parseltongue, and it shimmered.  
  
"Go straight through," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. "On the other side is a forest. Walk straight ahead and find the silver rock. There you will be met by a centaur named Firenze, and he'll take you to Hogwarts. Oh, and one more thing." He reached under his cloak once again and produced her wand and threw it to her.  
  
Hermione caught it and stared at him. "How do I know that you're not setting me up?"  
  
"You don't," he replied. "You take the risk. Isn't that what you Gryffindors are so famous for? Leaping without checking where you'll land?"  
  
She snorted at that. "But what's your name?" she asked.  
  
He seemed to think it over for some reason. "Call me Harry," he said in the end.  
  
"Well, then, thank you, Harry." With that she hurried through the wall and into the forest.  
  
* * * *  
  
Two weeks later Hermione was at Diagon Alley once again, this time with Dumbledore, Draco and Sirius. They were going to buy school supplies and anything else needed for the upcoming school year.  
  
When she had finally found the rock.. Harry - she wasn't used to call him that yet - had been talking about, Firenze had already been waiting for her. And he had taken her back to Hogwarts as promised. Her mother and father had been summoned to the school to get her possessions, and imagine the surprise they got when she walked through the door to the Headmasters office. There had been a lot of tears and hugs and kisses; and when that had began to wind down, Draco had run into the room shortly followed by Sirius. The young man had demanded that they went and rescued her, before he had noticed Hermione sitting in a couch between her parents. And once again the hugs and kisses had begun.  
  
In the end Dumbledore had had to break them up. Then he had asked of Hermione to tell them every single detail of what had happened to her during her imprisonment. The Headmaster had had a proud twinkle in his eyes when she told them about Harry saving her. The old mage had refused to answer any questions about him, and had smiled proudly all the time.  
  
And now she was back at the place where it all started. Draco was glaring at anyone who dared to look at them, playing the overprotective brother. Sirius was in his Animagus form of a Grim-like dog. He was trying to sniff out trouble, not that they had encountered any yet.  
  
Diagon Alley looked like it had before the Death Eaters had attacked it. People were hurrying here and there, buying, selling, arguing, chatting, eating. On and on it went. The buildings still looked the same. Absolutely nothing had changed, and Hermione was happy for that. They needed some normalcy in their lives in these times.  
  
Suddenly a cry went up: "Make way for the hero's!"  
  
A procession of Aurors entered Diagon Alley and walked around as if they owned the place. Four of them carried a cage on their shoulders and in the cage sat a young boy. He was battered and bloodied and his robes and shirt were only shreds. Bruises and cuts were clearly seen on the lean, well- muscled chest and back. Long black hair framed a pale, hidden face. The boy was forced to kneel in the cage as it was too small to sit straight in, and his hands were roughly tied at the wrists behind his back. Hermione could see the dried blood around the ropes.  
  
She looked up at Dumbledore. The Headmaster was looking incredibly worried. Sirius pushed the old mage's hand in question and Dumbledore nodded sadly. Then Sirius disappeared into the crows and towards the Ministry of Magic building. Hermione turned her attention back to the procession that came closer. The boy looked up and their eyes met. Startling, intelligent emerald green against calm chocolate brown. She gasped. It was the boy who had saved her not too long ago.  
  
The first Auror waved with his arms and the procession stopped in the middle of the street. Witches and wizards gathered around them in a circle. The leader coughed twice before grinning like a hyena.  
  
"My dear friends and fellow Light beings!" he yelled. "This is a day which will go down in history!"  
  
"Why?" someone asked. "Why will it go down in history?"  
  
"Because we have done what none have managed to before!" the Auror smiled nastily. "Behold your deepest fear!" he waved towards the cage and the boy.  
  
"What's so special about him?" a witch in the front of the crowd asked.  
  
"This monster is the Dark Lords son, Damien Riddle!" There was a little silence, then people whipped out their wands and started to hex the young man in the cage. Some even picked up stones and threw them at him, most were cursing and yelling and demanding that he was executed at once. Most of the hexes and stones didn't reach their goal but hit the cage instead.  
  
Hermione had no idea of what to think as she watched Ha- Damien Riddle move as well as he could out of the way of those few curses that actually got through the cage. She watched as he moved like a snake to and fro trying to avoid stones, but to no avail. One witch who was standing behind the cage and out of the young man's sight, shoot a Slicing Spell at him. However, Riddle seemed to have a sixth sense as he suddenly moved his hands in the way of the curse, and the rope that bound them was sliced.  
  
People stopped and gaped in horror as the young man massaged his wrists. Then he looked at them, the green eyes turning a piercing unnatural green colour. His eyes swept over the silent crowd and stopped at Dumbledore. The old Headmaster did some sign discretely with his hands and Riddle nodded. He suddenly shook several times and collapsed on the small floor of the cage. The Aurors began walking again with the crowd following, shouting once again.  
  
"Come along." Dumbledore said to Hermione and Draco and quickly led them towards the Ministry building. "We have a job to do."  
  
"What job Professor?" Draco asked.  
  
"You'll see."  
  
The crowd of people in front of the huge Ministry building parted when they saw Dumbledore approaching. The old Headmaster hurried inside and led the two teens towards two huge plain doors. They could hear screaming and cursing from inside and quickly entered. The sight that met them shocked Hermione and Draco.  
  
Riddle was bound securely on hands and feet to a chair. He was bleeding even more and the Aurors that stood over him grinned evilly and raised their wands. Other Aurors standing along the walls cheered and yelled.  
  
"Stop it!" Hermione turned towards the voice. Cornelius Fudge entered through another couple of doors and walked up to the prisoner. "Don't kill him yet, I need the information he'll be able to give us about the Dark Lord's plans." The fat man turned towards Riddle and sneered. "Now, boy, what do you know about your fathers plans?"  
  
Damien Riddle smirked evilly. "Go to hell." He hissed.  
  
Fudge hit him hard over the face and a trickle of blood ran from the young boy's mouth. "I'll ask again, bastard. What do you know of your fathers plans?!"  
  
"Once again, Fudge, you can go to hell." Riddle replied. One minute he was smirking and screamed in pain in the next. One of the Aurors had cast the Cruciatus Curse on him.  
  
Dumbledore decided to make his presence known and started to walk towards Fudge. "Will you stop this torture at once Cornelius?!"  
  
"Albus, you know as well as I that we need the information he can give us. And the only way to get something out of these Dark bastards is by force."  
  
"How can he talk when he's unconscious?" Dumbledore pointed out and they turned to Riddle. His head was hanging limply, bloody running down his chest. He was hardly breathing. "That boy needs serious medical help."  
  
"Yeah, right, so that he can escape again!" Fudge thought for a minute. "We don't have any free cells to put him in and we cannot let him roam free. What are we going to do with the brat?"  
  
"Let me take him to Hogwarts."  
  
--------------------------  
  
That's all folks. The chapter was corrected by Rachel A. Prongs, but written solely by The Red Dragons Order. 


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: We own nothing except the obvious, the rest belongs to JK Rolwing. 

Authors Note: This is co-written between THE RED DRAGONS ORDER, RACHEL A. PRONGS and ZIMAGESTO. Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Castle 

~*~

_'I have no prejudices. I hate everybody equally' _– Unknown

_'Never judge a book by its cover' – Unknown _

~*~

Fudge's eyes almost bugged out of his head, and he stared at Dumbledore. Dumbledore continued on like if making a proposal about taking in a very dangerous Dark Heir was something that happened everyday.

"Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that." Fudge said. "I thought you just suggested to let you take this murderer to Hogwarts?"

"I did." Replied Dumbledore.

"The same Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"The very same."

"The same Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry that is full of students?"

Dumbledore nodded again. "Is there a point to this repeating, Cornelius?"

_"Are you mad!? He'd kill the whole lot of you in seconds!" ****_

Dumbledore sighed. "You cannot blame the boy for what he is, Cornelius. He was born into an evil world, and feed lies and dark deciet since he was old enough to understand spoken word. He's been brainwashed since he was old enough to walk: that much is obvious. It would be unfair to execute him now."

"Unfair?!" Fudge exclaimed. "He's killed hundreds of people!"

"Cornelius, calm down and let me explain." Said Dumbledore. He made two chairs appear out of thin air and sat down in one of them. Next a table appeared, decked with tea, cups and cookies. And, of course, a bowl of Lemon Drops. "Now, have a seat."

Fudge really didn't look like he wanted to sit down, but he didn't dare to say anything against the old mage and sat down at the edge of his chair.

"Imagine this if you will," Dumbledore started and dipped his cookie in his tea. "You are born as the son of the most feared and evil Dark Lord of the times. Said Dark Lord is a tyrant and demands absolute discipline and obedience from his followers, including his son. So you are trained in various ways from the first day you could walk."

"I'll repeat your question Albus," growled Fudge. "Is there a point to this?"

"Indeed there is. It's all about survival, and every child has this instinct from birth. If he had defied the Dark Lord he wouldn't have lived to be eighteen years old." Dumbledore sighed. "He's been used, Cornelius, he is only a tool. I believe he deserves a second chance. I believe this boy has great potential to be turned back to the Light Side."

Fudge spluttered. "A second chance?! He'll use that second chance to kill your students! You can't take him to Hogwarts!"

"Why not? There he can learn what it is to be a human. He can study the Light Arts under me, and my teachers. He can learn how to socialise with normal youths. I believe he can be redeemened, if you only give him time."

Fudge sneered."Give me one clue that might have led you to this conclusion, Albus, and I'll let him come with you to Hogwarts." The Aurors around the room chuckled to themselves and started chatting with each other. Dumbledore might be one of the greatest wizards of this time, but not even he could find something good about the heir to the Dark Lord. And if he actually did manage to find something, then they would eat their uniforms.

"Today in Diagon Alley, when that witch sliced the bindings on his wrists, this young man was very capable of blowing the entire place to smithereens and kill hundreds of people, but he didn't." The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's sky-blue eyes, and his whiskers twitched upwards.

Fudge looked around in slight panic. "He- he collapsed!" he protested.

"I cast a Sleeping Charm on him," replied Dumbledore. "Don't try to worm your way out of the agreement Cornelius. The boy comes with me, and if you still protest let Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks come and keep an eye on Mr Riddle's progress... And remember, he never chose to go to the Dark Side, he was educated to live in it." 

During the whole conversation Hermione and Draco had been looking to and fro between the two men. Hermione was wondering why the hell the Headmaster was defending Damien 'Harry' Riddle so vehemently. Then, it suddenly clicked in the brilliant mind of the young witch. She turned to the unconscious young man bound in the chair. She blinked. One green eye was watching her and Draco, a small twitch at the lips indicated high amusement that no one had discovered that he was awake yet. Then the eyes went back to watching the Aurors in the room. Said aurors looked highly disappointed that they couldn't torture and kill the rabid Dark Heir, and disgusted that they actually had to eat their own robes.

All this, Damien Riddle watched in mild amusement.

"Alright, alright," said Fudge, growling. "Just remember it's on your head if _He starts attacking and murdering the whole school."_

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed easily. "I accept all responsibility for Mr Riddle." He then stood and flicked out his wand, he then cast a powerful Sleeping Charm on the green-eyed teen and cut the bonds with another swish of his wand. "Come along," he adressed Hermione and Draco, and with a "_Mobilicorpus_!" he floated the much discussed young man at his side.

~*~

"Hermione!" Draco whispered as the two hurried after Dumbledore as he headed towards the Hospital wing, Damien Riddle floating at his side."What's going on? Why are Riddle here? Dumbledore is crazy for taking him in, you know."

Hermione did not stop. "He saved me, Draco."

Draco came to an abrupt halt. "He what?" Then he had to hurry on, since Hermione was still moving fast.

"He saved me. He stopped four Death Eater trainees from beating and raping me, and then he let me escape. He saved my life."

His mouth hung a-gape. "But why should he do that?"

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. Then they had to stop talking, as they arrived in the Hospital wing.

Ginny Weasley, nurse in training, gasped when she saw the battered, unconcious young man, and immediately disappeared to find Madam Pomfrey.

When she arrived, she only shook her head sadly, and started her healing routine, as if healing the Dark Lord's son was something she happened to do often. Hermione and Draco watched, questions filling their heads, as Damiens numerous cuts and bruises disappeared. Some of them, however, left scars, and Hermione had a growing suspicion that they weren't his first.

"Why is she healing him?" Draco whispered harshly to Hermione.

Hermione however, was becoming rather certain as to why. "Honestly Draco. You're a Ravenclaw. Use your brains."

Then Dumbledore spoke. He'd been watching carefully as the Medi-witch was working, and now that it seemed like Damien would be all right, he had other, pressing business to tend to. "If you'll excuse me, Poppy," he said as he went towards the door, "There's someone I need to notify about Mr Riddle's arrival."

"Just go ahead Headmaster, I'll keep an eye on things," Madam Pomfrey said. Then she sighed. "Poor, poor boy. I had hoped that it would at least take another week before he ended up in my care again," she muttered.

Hermione and Draco decided some information would be good, and cornered Ginny. 

"What did she mean by that?" demanded Draco quietly.

"Didn't you two know?" Ginny asked, surprised." Damien Harry Riddle has been working as a spy for our side for five years, running errands for Dumbledore that no one else on our side would even think about trying. You should've seen the wounds we've had to treat over the years. He was almost turned into a vampire when he went to ask the vampires for help. The giants nearly flattened him!" The red-haired girl shook her head. "He's done so much for us," she said sadly, "He risks his life on daily basis, but no one aknowledges it. It would be a disaster if they would, too" she added, and with a sigh she went to help Pomfrey with her task. 

"Oh," said Draco, flabbergasted.

"He did help me escape, but I really didn't think much of it. Not even when I found out that he was Damien Riddle himself." Hermione whispered and sat down on a bed. She had, in the last few minutes started to suspect somethings, but at this scale? No. He was the Dark Lord's son for Merlin's sake!

"Do you really think it's true that he's been Dumbledore's number one spy for years?" Draco looked over to the other bed. "It's just so unlikely! I mean, he's killed hundreds of people!"

"You heard what Dumbledore said: survival instincts." Hermione was about to continue her train of thoughts, when a moan from Riddle claimed her attention.

Green eyes fluttered open and took in their surroundings. "Here again, am I?"

"Yes, you are," answered Pomfrey. "You should be given a personal room."

A grin went over the pale face. "Ah, Poppy, I know you love to pamper me."

The nurse tried to keep the fond smile off her face, but didn't succeed. "Little charmer!" she laughed, to Draco and Hermione's surprise. Usually she was very strict and harsh with her patients. "Now, Ginny has got some new clothes for you just behind that screen there, and this time we've made sure everything fits."

Riddle nodded and slowly stood. First now did Draco see just how tall the Dark Lord's heir was; perhaps not as tall as Ronald Weasley, but taller than a normal young man.

The green-eyed young man walked behind the screen and then came back out a minute later fully dressed again, and not appearing to have suffered anything from his capture at the hands of the Aurors. A perfectly healthy, tall, rather handsome young man, unfazed by the fact that he less than half an hour earlier had been _that close torment and death at the hands of Aurors._

It was at that moment the doors of the Hospital wing banged open and a black streak of ...something... came zooming in. It threw itself at Riddle who buckled and fell backwards, skidding a few feet on the floor.

"Hello Severus," came Riddle's voice. He sounded distinctly amused. "Nice to see you again."

"Damien!" the small zooming creature cried, and finally Hermione was able to recognise 'it'. It was Severus Snape, a new student who had joined the forth years even though he was only twelve, and earned the friendship and respect of Arel Arlenmeier, the strict Potions Mistress and Head of Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts. Now that had surprised everyone, for Professor Arlenmeier rarely befriended anyone. The other thing that was curious about Severus, was that he was a _Snape. The Snapes had been killed by You Know Who several years ago... but the boy could be a distant relative of that Snape family._

The boy was obviously very excited. "You came! I thought you said you wouldn't!"

"Things change, kid. Did you keep up with your lessons?" Riddle stood, and helped the younger boy up as well.

"I did. Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to borrow his personal piano and has been teaching me himself."

A black eyebrow arched. "Really?"

"Yes, he's _ssssooooo_ good at playing! He even plays violin!" Severus Snape was bouncing happily on the spot. Now _that_ was certainly weird. Earlier Hermione had only observed him as depressed and sad, allways moping around in the school and now he looked like a black rubber ball. 

Riddle looked up at the sound of footsteps. "Well, it seems I owe you a thanks, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Think nothing of it, my boy. It was my pleasure. Ah," the Headmaster suddenly spotted Draco and Hermione. "Let me introduce you to Mr Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger – the latter, I believe, you already know."

Riddle's eyes narrowed. "The son of Lucius Malfoy, no?" he asked, and Draco stiffened.

"Yes," he said, his chin high, eyes meeting Riddle's defiantly. He didn't feel quite comfortable with that look, but he'd be damned if he showed it. 

Riddle nodded briefly, and then turned back to the Headmaster. "I didn't get to the elves," he said. "Fudge and his idiots captured me half-way there. How they managed that is still a mystery to me."

Dumbledore looked suddenly worried. "Hmm, indeed. We'll have to check on that soon. But first of all I need your advice on something. Would you mind coming along right away?"

It was an order and Riddle knew it. He bent down to look Severus in the eyes. "I'm going to stay at Hogwarts for a while, so we'll see each other often enough."

Severus nodded. "I'm just happy that you're here, brother" he said with a smile.

Hermione and Draco blinked in surprise. _Brother?!_

Riddle nodded again, smiling slightly at the younger boy. Then stood and turned to Dumbledore. "Lead the way, Albus."

-------------------

Well, what did you think? Please review.

Thanks to:

Rachel A. Prongs, SSSRoaB, pistaccio pudding, Siri Kat, Tigress of the Night, zimagesto, Reader, King Akvar, Sword Wielder – Firebreath and Amy14.   


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